Choices, choices
by IAmAStoryNerd
Summary: Callie Wolfe is sixteen, ready to choose, either her home faction - Candor, to remain with her mother and her little brother - or the one she received on her test, Dauntless, to break free from held tongues that hid lies and the opposite of destiny. As she's deciding, Cal gets a slice of each life, each ending the same way. Her choice is surprising, and not even you saw it coming.


I awake to find myself in uncontrollable shudders, nails bitten to the bed, exhausted but unable to close my eyes again. Pulling my hair into a braid, I wince as the skin underneath my nails pulls with each movement. Halfway through I desert the braid, instead letting my hair hang in its usual dark curls around my face.

My features match my status as a Candor. I have high cheekbones, angular eyebrows, and thin lips; my face is thin, however, and my eyes are a very strange, watery green.

I stuff myself into supremely tight black jeans and slip a slightly see-through white t-shirt over my head. This outfit I picked out years ago for my Choosing Ceremony, back when I was about thirteen and believed I would never grow. I was about four foot five, and I've shot up like a bean sprout since; now, I measure to about five seven, and I can hardly wear the used-to-be-baggy jeans.

I rip them off, and pull on a skirt. After a few seconds of squirming uncomfortably in my shirt, I change that, too, to a white polo shirt. My black cardigan goes over my shoulders, and white sneakers enclose my feet. Knotting my shoes, there's a rap on my door. I yell, "Come in!", and my younger brother enters, wearing black shorts, a white shirt, and a supremely loose tie. "Hey, Liam," I say. "Did Mom tie that?"

"I did," he says proudly.

At times like this, I _despise_ being a Candor.

"It looks great," I lie. Lie! I bite my lip. "I mean, it's loose. You might want to get Mom to fix it."

Relief spreads through my heart at his shrug. "I like it like this. But Cal, Mom says you might leave us today," he says, his features sagging.

I shakily nod. "I might," I say. He seems to shrink, tugging his shoulders low and eyebrows furrowing.

"Where would you go?" he whispers, and my eyes burn at the sound of his voice. This is what I will give up.

"I… I don't know yet, Liam."

"A different color?"

He has only noticed the colors so far. Not the people, their personalities. "Yes," I reply, and pull him into my lap, and stroked his blonde hair, glancing over at his own features, silvery and fragile. Our thin faces and eyes match, but he's more delicate, cute and innocent. However, his hair curls as well, his hair collections of tumbleweed that never lies, tossing in the wind. I kiss his head, and he looks up at me.

"What color?" he asks quietly.

"I don't know which," I say.

"What color did you get?"

"What?"

"On your test?"

"Oh." I think I trust Liam, but he's a Candor. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I just can't, m'kay?"

"Okay," he says sorrowfully, and leaves my room. I sigh, my lungs almost imploding with the impossible decision.

I received Dauntless. Liam can't know, because he'll blab to Mom or something. She'll be disapproving. But, she'll realize I'll be lying if I say I'm going to stay. She's naturally Candor, unable to tell lies but can tell what a lie is. She defines liars. She often defines me.

For example, when I walk outside, she surveys my face. "You're going to leave us today." Statement. Cold, hard fact. I sigh.

"I haven't decided yet," I told her truthfully, knowing she will believe me. That's the good thing about the Candor - when you're truthful, they'll always believe you.

"Okay," she says, looking uneasy, though she lets it go.

"Faction before blood," I say, more to myself than to her, but she still nods.

"Faction before blood," she clarifies. She continues shifting the scrambled egg in the pan she has on the stovetop. The fire cooking the eggs warms me as I stand close. I'm thinking about how I really should just get cereal instead of waiting for the eggs, when she drops her spatula, turns around, and grabs me in a hug that I first think is her attempt at strangling me, but no, it's a hug - the warmth and her arms around my waist and not my throat. She whispers delicately, "I love you, even if you choose to leave us."

My heart breaks for the second time this morning. They know for sure I will leave; I don't even know if I'm going to take the bus or not.

Probably the bus, because walking takes longer.

Mom breaks open a can of fruit cocktail, which she warms a little and we share over our eggs. I fight tears all morning, talking and acting like usual. But it's not usual…

I can't imagine the thought of not spending another day with her.

But I can't imagine being Candor for the rest of my life.

The bus is overcrowded. The air around me feels stifling as I walk in, and I breathe like a fish out of water; short and gasping. Still undecided, still gnawing at my mostly-destroyed fingernails. I slam the heel of my hand against my forehead when I start to feel the flow of blood down my wrist. I have bitten them too far, they hurt too much.

I grate my hand down my face and step closer to the pole, tightening my grip. I give myself a bit to stop being ridiculous. I set my jaw, straighten my posture, smooth my shirt, flip my hair, and think.

I'm being so pensive that when the bus stops, I'm the last one off, and I have to jog to keep up with the crowd.

I see Stiffs stepping cautiously through the crowd, pretending not to be bothered by the oncoming taunts and shoves. They must be no one. I bite my lip. Not them. I could never be them.

The Amity walk in clumps, giggling and hugging and playing games, frustrating me. I could never be them, their smooth peacefulness.

Some of the Erudite are stamping their feet and arguing, not being Candor, being Erudite, because it's over some species of animal, whether it's dangerous or not. I think I could make it as one of them; I'm smart… but as I watch them all in their blue clothes and glasses, shoving them up the bridge of their nose, slippery in the heat, I realize I wouldn't. They're too stupidly smart.

The Dauntless, look at them; jumping from trains, shoving each other, talking in loud voices. One of them shoves a Stiff to the ground.

I run to help her. She bites her lip as I reach her. "I'm fine," she says, "I've got it, don't worry about me-"

"No, it's fine," I say, flushing at the startled faces all around. I shake my head. "I've got to go." I let go of her hand and run away.

I could be a Stiff, I guess.

Or, better yet, I could be a Dauntless.

And then there's the Candor. I love them. Honest and believing and trustworthy. There's a certain comfort about them. There's no deceitfulness in them; but they won't keep secrets when you need them to.

I could be a Candor.

But I, but I got Dauntless.

On my way inside, I make a Stiff stumble. He bites his lip as I walk away, brushing himself off.

* * *

We're standing in the room. I'm beside Katie Buenard, a tiny Erudite dressed in a ocean blue dress, and Dean Culler, an Amity in a yellow shirt and red jeans, mostly talking to those on his other side. I rock from my heels to my toes, still undecided. I love Liam, I love Mom, but I will love Dauntless.

Oh my dearest dear God, make them Dauntless somehow.

I choke back tears. I don't know what to do.

Katie's looking like she knows; Dean, he seems right with his fellows where he stands. I can't tell if they are lying. I am bad, I have always been bad, at that. But I cannot leave Liam.

They begin to call names. "Zachary Huli."

I, I have not decided yet. They told me I would be close to the beginning. I am not ready.

My blood, my blood should burn, my blood, my blood should drip through shards of glass.

 _Get a grip, Callie._

I'm fine. I'm okay.

Zachary picks Candor. He originated in Erudite. I imagine spending initiation with him, being my friend. I want my family more than ever. Stabs of pain ache on my chest, and I look over at where Liam stands in the crowd. He looks worried.

Is my family the only reason I want to stay Candor?

"Henry Macmillan."

He picks Erudite. No, never them.

The next person picks Dauntless, officially born and raised. Unless she doesn't make initiation.

"Callie Wolfe."

I jump, then look around. People are staring. I shakily stand taller, and walk to the front.

A man smiles at me, and hands me a huge knife. I tell myself I must not be afraid of a blade. It won't hurt, it can't hurt. I grab the blade, get a firm grip, and slit my wrist.

"Um, your wrist isn't-"

I shake my head. Throbs of pain streak up my arm as I shake my head again. "I'm fine," I say coolly, and walk towards the bowls in the front.

 **DAUNTLESS**

I make the decision almost instantly. I turn to stare at Liam. I make my lips move. I don't know what I'm mouthing, but then a silence loud enough to cancel anything but the sound of sizzling, I become a Dauntless.

* * *

I swipe my hands on my pants, and button my sweater tighter. I can almost pretend I have always been Dauntless, because only my white collar is showing. I stand with the rest of the Dauntless, avoiding Mom's or Liam's gaze, missing them.

When it's over, we run in a herd outside, us transfers not surprised by their crazy behavior. We are surprised when we reach the train platform.

"We're starting with jumping on a train?" shouts an Amity boy by my side, and I shrug.

"I guess."

We slow, and my side aches. I whisper a congratulations to myself for actually choosing.

The train speeds along a corner, and the Dauntless begin to chase thin air; its speed is too great not to start before the train comes. I follow the herd, and the monster bellowing tufts of smoke comes whistling down the tracks. The Dauntless initiates jump into the train first, some hopping, some grabbing at a handle. I am at their pace, so I leap onto the train with the Dauntless-borns.

"Aren't you a transfer?" asks a girl in black capris and a tank top, with a boy cut and heavy mascara.

I decide to answer truthfully.

"Yes," I say, holding out my hand. "Callie. And you?"

"Are a Dauntless-Born," she snarls. Then she stares at my hand - I wave it around - and then grasps it. "And my name is Duchess. Welcome to Dauntless."

I sigh. "Well, I still have initiation, don't I?"

"As do I."

"Well, good luck to you" - I nod. - "Duchess."

A half hour passes, and soon I hear the train slowing. I stand slowly, swaying with the train's rhythm, and lean against the car.

"Here's the deal, DB's!" shouts and instructor from the front of the car. "We're going through the back entrance! Remember, on the roof, then down the hole!"

I bet I wasn't supposed to know that. But it helps, certainly.

I stand closest to the train's exit. I lean out of the car, grabbing on to the handle on the outside. When a building comes around, other Dauntless begin to jump, and I decide to, too.

I hurtle from the train car to the gravel. I seem to fly through the air, and I wait for the jolts of pain to shoot up my ankles. There isn't any.

I begin to scream.

People behind me seem to chuckle; transfer in a DB car dies trying to get in the compound. But I, but I imagine nothing but my fear.

I scream until my throat is hoarse and then suddenly I stop - not dead.

I'm hanging onto a window ledge, teeth gritted, tears in grimy tracks down my face.

I quickly put my feet on the window sills. If I go up, I will have another chance at Dauntless. If I go down, I am factionless.

When I reach the ground, I look up. Some looking down at me begin to cheer. "You survived!" and "come on back up!"

"I'd rather be factionless than dead," I shout at the buildings. Their smiles fade, and I walk away.

 **CANDOR**

My blood on the glass, a light pink color. The liquid seems to drip through thin air, and I give Liam a glance. He's grinning so wide I can see the gaps in his teeth.

Candor.

I can no longer tell lies.

It seems like a bind upon my chest.

Candor, it screams like a beast in my stomach, Candor, I am trapped for life.

* * *

Initiation day has come. I stand in front of my peers. Today I will confess to everything in the depths of my soul.

My heart pounds.

They call my name first. I shakily walk to the front of the room, and take a seat in the chair.

They give me an injection, right in my neck. It stings, sharp and insistent. I instantly feel slower, dazed.

"Hello," says my interrogator. "My name is Julia Stones. What is yours?"

"Uh, Callie Wolfe." The answer is immediately on my lips, and I feel terrible fear of this. I will not keep anything to myself. "My nickname is Cal."

"Who are your family? What are their names?"

"My mom, Danielle Wolfe, and my brother, Liam Wolfe."

"What is your deepest regret, Cal?"

"Choosing Candor," I say, and the crowd gives a collective gasp.

"Um," says Julia Stones, "Um, I'm not sure what to make of that. What do you wish you'd picked?"

"Dauntless," I say.

The gasp rises again.

"Excuse me," I cut her off. "Excuse me, can I leave? I'm sorry, I can't do this."

I bite my lip. Julia mirrors me.

"Yes. But, if you leave now, you fail, and you are factionless."

" Then I am factionless." Liam sobs, in the audience. I was so close.

I leave, the chair empty for a few minutes before they continue.

 **THE CHOICE**

My blood finds the carpet. I let it create a pool there.

"Factionless," I say. "I choose factionless."

Liam's surprised; Mom's gasping; my friends are choking back tears.

I exit the room the way I came.


End file.
